Burning Legion II: A Ripple In Time
by White Phantom
Summary: Three years after Amy Ford first started her quest to save her world from the Burning Legion, the resistance is faced with new complications, and she and her friends are quickly learning that the Legion was only the first of the hurtles her world must face on its path to recovery. Sequel to Burning Legion.
1. Chapter 1: Where We Stand

_Disclaimer: Let this stand for the whole fic, I do not own World of Warcraft. The lovely people at Blizzard entertainment do, and I loathe the thought of their resources going toward a lawsuit rather than new character models. _

_A/N: This is the sequel to Burning Legion. While I am hopefully decent enough at integrating recap and new material that you won't need to read that fic to understand what's going on in this one, you still might wanna read that one first. Just to see how it all started. _

_Also, if you like my work here, I would like to point out that I have a book that has just come out that might be up your alley, Tales of Mysdrym: Ancients Stir. For more information on it, check out my profile._

…-….

When the Burning Legion swept across my world, obliterating countless lives and even blotting out the sun with dark, thick clouds, I was seventeen.

Before they came, I cared about clothes and celebrities and what my best friend Bethany thought about the latest episode of Vampire Diaries. I was a B student, and I didn't do any sports. I was the kind of face that just became a part of the crowd as soon as I stepped into it. People didn't expect me to give speeches or do anything so spectacular with my life that I'd be remembered for generations to come. I was fine with that, though. I was normal. Average.

And I loved every minute of it.

But then I… I'm still not sure why I did it, but I decided to get help. I crossed worlds, was chased by demons, and had my hopes crushed over and over and over.

In Azeroth, I made friends with heroes and villains alike, and we found a path back to my world, to earth. We fought against impossible odds, and we won.

Well, kind of.

I mean, there's still demons and stuff. But things are getting better!

Sort of.

Maybe a little.

Not really.

As the demons' numbers dwindle, I've found that the old hatreds and biases and greed that's always plagued humanity has found our situation comfortable enough to rear their heads.

I'm twenty now. It seems like such a short time, but so much has happened. I think I say that a lot, but it's pretty much true every time.

You see, the Legion, when they came, set up their base near the north pole. From there, they worked their way down, tearing through the northern hemisphere. They'd cloaked themselves with some sort of magic so that we couldn't see them, and it was like ghosts descending on towns, wiping them off the map before anyone could even get word to others. At first. I guess that attack strategy must have worked in other worlds, but they didn't consider how hard it would be to eradicate the bigger cities. Or maybe they wanted us to know they were coming. Those things are called demons for a reason. They act the part.

In the end, though, they underestimated our ability to survive. They didn't realize that there would be people who would give their lives so that the rest of us could live. They underestimated our ability to learn.

This guy in Germany, for example, figured out that you could see the demons if you used infrared goggles. He managed to post it to youtube before he was killed. I never encountered any succubi, but I guess they were a large part of the force that overtook Asia? Well, this South Korean woman figured out that if you could drown out their voices, they were basically just any other crazy with a whip. And hooves. And…well, they were a lot easier to kill when you weren't frikkin' enthralled by them. She sacrificed herself so that her kids could get away and spread the word. Their names are going down in history as heroes, now.

While their discoveries did help humanity as a whole, in the end…

Officially—with a few small exceptions—the northern hemisphere has become a dead zone, a wasteland. There used to be one hundred and ninety something countries in our world. Officially, there's less than fifty now. Most of them are in South America and southern Africa. Places the demons hadn't reached yet.

Some people are saying that until we can completely repel the demons and do a thorough sweep, no countries should be written off.

The people thinking along those lines, however, are becoming fewer and fewer as their opposition grows stronger. I'm not saying the other side is bad, because I _know_ things are rarely black and white, but they want to redraw the map. It's like a new age of discovery. For them, they don't see why the majority of the human population should be confined to less than half of the landmass of our world. It makes sense; it does.

And I think in an ideal world, it wouldn't be so bad if they did redraw the maps.

I mean, with the spells from Azeroth, there's no such thing as language barriers anymore, so it's not like the conquering people would have to teach any stragglers or holdouts of survivors their language. Just cast a spell, and they can argue all they want.

The problem is really dumb, if you think about it. Humans are territorial. For example, I'll use the U.S., since that's where I'm from. Our population, pre-Burning Legion was over three hundred million or something. Now people are guessing there might be five hundred thousand of us left, scattered across the continent.

And that's the optimistic view.

That's a lot of land that's not being used. That's a lot of space that could be restored, cultivated, used to keep the rest of the world going. I don't think people have a problem with that part. What they have a problem with is what it's gonna be called.

Why do we even need countries at all? We're all people. We're all fighting the Legion, fighting to survive. Why can't we just be humans?

I doubt I'll ever get real answers to questions like that, but in the end, people are starting to squabble over what places will be called. Over which governments get to control them. The U.S. isn't alone, either. All the survivors of countries who fell are now having to face other people coming in and claiming their corners of the world for others.

Territorial disputes have broken out in former Texas and Egypt, which is actually a forefront of the fight against the demons. It's a 'quest hub' in the wasteland, if you will. There's a few others like it—New York City proved to be as durable as all those end of the world movies always portrayed it to be—and so far people have been mostly tiptoeing around what's going to happen with them. After all, you don't say 'fuck you' to the people leading the assaults against the monsters threatening to destroy you.

Sorry for the cursing, I do try not to, but, well, the people I'm around tend to swear a lot.

Not an excuse, but still.

Back to the dismal. Smaller countries are trying to expand their territories, and then the bigger countries that are left are trying to make sure they stay bigger than the smaller ones. It's…we're fighting each other instead of the real enemy. Over land. Land that belonged to people who were murdered horribly.

Like I said, skirmishes have started, but the one place that hasn't had any trouble, that hasn't had any overzealous explorers marching out and planting flags, is Russia. My friend, Vsevolod, V for short, is a mage from Russia, and he says that when people do get there, they're gonna find a thriving society. He says there's nothing that can hold them down, but at the end of the day, I know he's worried.

He and a few others tried to lead a reconnaissance team into Russia two years ago, right after we'd killed the big bad running things in our world. They weren't able to get very far, and none of the ones who made it back ever talk about it. It's known as one of the remaining demonic strongholds, like the ones in Sweden/Norway, Greenland, and Alaska.

Oh, on a lighter note: Finland and Canada survived.

Yeah. Dunno how exactly, what with the demons plowing through them, but they're still there—they're the official exceptions that I was talking about earlier and the reason some people wanna wait to redraw the maps, because maybe we'll come through and places like Andorra or Macedonia or something are hanging in as well.

Regardless of how, those two countries have developed a rep for being serious bad asses.

Bad asses who are, at least in the Canadians' instance, surprisingly polite. Unless you're a demon.

Anyway. So we're starting to have problems with people stepping on other people's toes in regards to territories.

I wish I could say that was the extent of our issues.

It's not.

The allies I got us in Azeroth are starting to fight among themselves, too. Well, I guess that's deceptive. They've always been fighting. But it was getting better. And then it got worse.

And then it got way worse.

Like, they've had skirmishes and all out blood baths in _our world_. We've been trying to maintain that Earth is neutral territory, but, well…

It's not.

Not anymore. People are beginning to choose sides—Horde or Alliance. Most countries that had to dig their nails in to hold on to a vestige of their former lives prefer the Horde. Those guys are a Victory or Death bunch, and that's the attitude we need to reclaim our homes.

Countries who didn't go toe to toe with infernals and felguards tend to prefer the Alliance. It's not that they suck in a fight or anything—some of the best fighters I know are Alliance—but they're more tactful? That's not the right word…

Hmm….how do I explain it? The Alliance focuses more on relief and repairs. The Horde tends to be fight, fight, fight, move on when there's nothing left to kill. The Alliance helps defend and rebuild.

I'm not saying either faction is _always_ that way, but yeah.

And there's been some pretty bad stuff going on in Azeroth. Like, genocidal stuff.

The Horde's leader, Garrosh Hellscream, went crazy. Some rumors say he figured that it was only a matter of time before all of Earth sided with the Alliance and wiped the Horde from the maps—I don't think we'd do that, but who knows at this point—so he took measures to make sure the playing field would be even.

Out here, it's hard to say if that's the real reason. I mean, rumors get twisted and I've found that humans are kinda arrogant overall. We always think things are about us. Maybe Mr. Hellscream's plans was in the works before my world came into the picture.

Regardless, he did some pretty awful stuff. So some heroes thwarted his schemes and took him to trial. And he escaped. I don't know the details, really. I've been a bit busy with my own world.

But _everyone's_ pissed off. Like some Alliance blame the Horde, saying they helped him since he was their leader? Though, after what he did to his own allies, the Horde is pretty mad he got away, too.

He fled to some trippy time warp place and people are saying he escaped into the past.

I'd say good riddance, if not for the fact that he could alter the present if he changes the past. If he rewrites Azeroth's history, what will happen to my world?


	2. Chapter 2: A New Hurtle

_A/N: Thank you everyone for reading and for the reviews! I will be doing my best to update this on Thursdays, but it may take me a little bit to get back into the swing of set updates._

…-…

So. I finally found out what happened in Russia. It's a bit of an explanation to get there, so bear with me.

But yeah.

Um.

We're really kinda fucked.

There I go with swearing again. Elizabeth would cheer me on. She's a gamer girl from…where did she say? Utah? She traveled a really long way to fight the Legion in New York City. She's a hunter, and her mighty pet is a Chihuahua named Tinkerbelle. Don't be deceived by its size; that dog is vicious. I wish I could tell you that she's doing well, but I haven't seen her in almost a month. I think she went with some others to Australia to try to persuade them not to openly declare themselves Alliance?

She's a Horde fan girl with a rather brazen personality, so I don't know if she'll actually help that situation…

In case you're wondering, I said a lot about what's been going on in the worlds, but not a lot about what's been going on for me. And I promise, this does sort of tie into the whole Russia thing.

Right now, I am in Wales. It's pretty post apocalyptic here. I mean, there's not really any people left. There's a few strongholds in England, so they've already really evacuated everyone to those. From there, it's a portal roulette to wherever you wanna go, be it in our world or in Azeroth or even Outland. Some people do wanna come back home, for sure. Others are just ready to start over.

The demonic presence here is pretty much gone. Yay, right?

I mean, there's still a rogue felhunter or whatever that you might come across—part of the reason why everyone's still evacuated, and partially because even with all the people from Wales and Scotland, England's only a tiny fraction of what it used to be, like the U.S., so there's not really an issue of overcrowding.

But the truth is, I'm not out here because of demons. If I wanted to be fighting back the monsters, I'd still be in Sweden or helping V out in his latest attempt to get people to go with him to reclaim Russia. Not to knock anyone else, but he is one of _the_ most loyal countrymen I've ever seen. He is determined to see Russia back on its feet.

About that.

That's like our biggest defeat right now—barring the whole our world got roflstomped, of course. See, we had a portal to Moscow. We had people going in. But the 'incident' happened—like I said, anyone who might know won't talk about it—and we ended up having to close the portals and abandon that outpost.

From there, we just focused on working our way north and now, like I said, it's just Alaska, Norway/Sweden, Greenland, and Russia that are really bad. And people are fighting every second of every day to reclaim them.

But, I'd just come back to Finland from a southern portion of Sweden, where the fighting's still pretty bad—by the way, I'm still not a fighter-fighter. I sneak in, see their numbers, sneak out. Sometimes I sabotage operations, too. Typical rogue stuff.

Well, we haven't been making much progress. We're starting to think that they might have a few smaller bases like the one that was in the Arctic Circle in the areas that they still own, where they're getting limited reinforcements. The truth is, we're not sure.

And we're losing so many people trying to find out.

But we'd just finished defending our base for like the nth time that week when Brath gets all grumbly. We're still together, in case you were wondering. And he still hates everyone in every world except for me.

He's such a ray of sunshine.

However, there's always a few people that—I don't know if he can smell them coming because he's a dragon or what—when he realizes they're where we are, make him even worse. My friend Fizz, mostly. I guess he doesn't like that I have a goblin savior. He doesn't seem to understand the history that I have with that little green, scowly creature, but Brath thinks he should be the only hero I ever need.

He mumbled something along those lines when I got mad at him for hating Fizz about a year ago. I am so not kidding. It's kind of cute, but still. He needs to accept that I have friends other than him.

According to him, he has and that's why he hasn't eaten them yet.

Not gonna lie, it's really weird having a boyfriend who can legit eat people he doesn't like by turning into a giant scaly lizard. Dragons are some special snowflakes, for sure.

Anyway.

So Brath got all grumbly. I figured either it was Fizz or Brath's little brother, Wrathion. See, the Black Prince found that if his brethren were brought to my world, it was far enough away that the whispers of the old gods of Azeroth were lost to them. Like, most of them are still totally crazy, but they're free of the manipulations, and their corruption seems to be leaving them slowly. It'll be years before we know for sure, but there's hope.

That's actually one thing people don't know much about that will eventually need to be addressed when they redraw the maps. North and South Dakota are kind of the new territory of the Black Dragon flight.

At least they promised they wouldn't eat any survivors they came across.

Though…they didn't exactly say they'd help them, either.

…

Sometimes it's better not to think too much on things.

Being one of the few remaining dragons of his flight, Brath—Brathrion is his full name, though I always trip over that second r, so he tells me to just call him Brath—gets visited from his flight's leader from time to time, to help with dragon stuff. I think if he thought he could legitimately take out his little brother so that he'd have some peace, he would.

In fact, I think that's why Wrathion has been sending his minions to us lately, instead of coming in person. Who knows?

I'm so off topic.

The person coming to visit us turned out to be Senta'ri, a troll hunter we—I—befriended during the fighting to take back my world. He's pretty awesome, and he's pretty much unofficially made Earth his home. I guess that works out, from what I hear was happening to the Darkspear back in Azeroth.

However, Senta'ri's call was not a social one. See, after I fell out of the sky near Fizz's home and he learned that I couldn't understand any of the languages he was versed in, Fizz, lovable little goblin that he is, figured out how to make a spell that let us all talk to each other. So, pretty much everyone's been using that spell, and it makes it so…well, technically, we're all still talking different languages. We just understand each other.

Senta'ri had actually sought us out looking for Fizz, because his news involved that spell. However, Fizz and some other goblins are in the process of fortifying that old trash island out in the Pacific as a special base for them—or just a city. It's hard to tell with them, sometimes.

Anyway, it took some prodding, but he finally explained what the problem is. The Forsaken have developed a way to block the language spell. Now they can talk amongst themselves in Gutterspeak, and we can't understand them.

Apparently, they were doing just that at a base in…where did he say he was? Brazil? There's a sort of fall back base in Brazil now. It's far enough away from the fighting that people can relax and regroup and all that there before heading back north to keep fighting.

While he was there, he stumbled across these two Forsaken, talking all quiet like in the back of a bar. Well, they didn't realize that the troll knew their language, and they were talking about gathering recruits.

Yeah.

The undead were basically talking about gathering _our_ dead. There's been rumors about it ever since they made contact with us, but now apparently they have some hardcore operations underway. And they've been focusing on more isolated areas that don't get much attention anymore, since the demons are gone.

A.k.a. Wales, among other places. I hear rumors that they've been scouring Japan and a few other places, as well, mostly islands, for people to bolster their numbers with. I'm skeptical about Japan, though, because that's a major base of operations for defenses against demonic attacks coming from Russia.

That's why I'm in Wales. It's quiet here.

Perfect for grave robbing.

So far, it hasn't been too bad. We haven't seen any Forsaken or demons. It's a little eerie passing through towns and seeing the broken buildings, but nature's starting to make a comeback. It's been roughly two years since we got the sun back, and as you walk down the street, you can see grasses peeking up from cracks in pavement and vines and stuff winding over broken walls.

And there's animals.

I don't know how many species went extinct when the Legion came, but they didn't get everything. I even saw a couple squirrels chasing each other on some old trees, earlier. Most of the trunks were charred and teetering, but there's little sprouts coming up around them and one even had its own leaves budding on a few scraggly branches.

If I was really deep, I'd say something about rebirth and all that, but really, it's just nice to see. I bet if we got a few druids out here, we could speed up the process, too.

Two other friends came with us. I guess five is sort of the magic number in Azeroth, for less pressing quests. There's Neesera, the sweetest draenei shaman you will ever meet who is always optimistic and an engineer, and Hendric, a dwarf warrior who likes to perpetuate the drunken dwarf stereotype hardcore. I saw him fight sober once, and he could barely hold his axe, so we always try to make sure he's got plenty of alcohol on hand.

He brews his own stuff, too. It burns the throat like you wouldn't believe, but I'm developing a fondness toward it—in case you're wondering, things like legal drinking ages are kind of trivial these days, as there are _much_ more important things to worry about.

Oh, if you're curious, Brath's our 'tank'. It's kind of easy for a giant dragon to keep enemies' attention, you know? Besides that, Brath always makes a point of pulling creatures' attention away from any warriors or paladins or whatever who try to actually tank for us. Because of him, finding a group can be a little painful, as healers tend to avoid us, since he causes such chaos.

Ah, well.

Neesera puts up with him, somehow.

Bless her heart.

So, yeah. We went to Wales looking for body snatchers.

But what we found?

It's so, _so_ much worse.


	3. Chapter 3: A Forsaken Little Village

_A/N: Thank you for reading! And for reviewing! _

…-…

So Wales must have been really beautiful before the Legion came. I mean, it is now, even after everything that's happened. If I'd been here for any other reason, I'd have thought it amazing and hopeful.

But then, if I'd been here for any other reason, we probably wouldn't have come across these containers of glowing green liquid.

See, we were heading down some old broken road, when we noticed a town up ahead. Now the way we'd been doing things was that if we came to an formerly inhabited area, then Brath, Senta'ri, and I would scout ahead, with him flying overhead and Senta'ri and me sneaking in on the ground. We'd been through two villages without seeing any signs that anyone had been there in a long time when we came to this one. It was a kind of small place—we found a sign that said _Pontllanf_-. The rest of it was cut off, and we didn't have a map to check the full name.

Anyway, so Neesera and Hendric set up camp a good ways off from town. A long time ago, she made these mechanical squirrels to scout out New York City. It's a long, long story, but basically we've upgraded them a bit. They don't rely on satellites, but rather radio waves. We thought about making them communications devices, but we all have these magical rocks for that, so it's really not necessary.

Senta'ri and I each took two with us so that we could send them into places we couldn't reach or didn't want to risk ourselves. By the time we got to the outskirts of the village, we figured that Neesera already had her equipment set up at camp to view feedback, so we went ahead in. We could have just asked her on the crystals, I suppose, but we try not to make too much noise until we know that no one's around.

Well, Senta'ri and I split up almost instantly. He headed north while I went south. I'd been walking maybe ten minutes when I found the first crates. There were dozens. And this wasn't like some stock pile people had tried to get together to fight the Legion with. These boxes were new, wooden, and completely unmarked.

I wandered around to check for any sentries, and then turned on one of the squirrels. I set it on one of the crates and set about opening the one next to it. The squirrel tried to scamper off twice—the programming isn't the best—but finally it settled down. Actually, it did that just about the time that I managed to get the crate open.

Inside, there were four canisters like I had never seen before. Definitely Azerothian make, though. Their world has an odd sort of signature, if that makes sense? There's a certain intricacy to their simpler objects.

Anyway. I could see a bit of a green glow from beneath the caps, so I started to lift one of the canisters to get a better view. However, I'd barely been able to lift it enough to see that it was some weird liquid sloshing around in there that was causing the glow, when my crystal started buzzing.

I was pretty sure I'd had it off, but it just kept buzzing, and I was afraid the vibrations were gonna make me drop the canister, so I set it back and then pulled out the crystal. As soon as I held it flat on my palm, Neesera's voice was snapping out instructions.

"Retreat! Leave the squirrel and get out of there! We don't need to see more!" Her voice cracked, both from odd dissonances that occasionally interfered with magical communications and fear.

Even as I thought to tell her that I'd be on my way soon, I realized that there was a shadow over my hands.

Jerking my head up, I stared at a Forsaken leaning against the other side of the crate. Despite the hole recesses where her eyes were supposed to be, I could feel her watching me.

I'd only really dealt with two Forsaken before. Once was a healer in Booty Bay, who had wordlessly tended to my injuries, despite assuming I was from an enemy faction. The second one was Mr. Blackheart, a maniacal sociopath of a warlock who was best friends with Brath. Even so, he didn't make a habit of visiting us.

Despite my first encounter with their kind being surprisingly pleasant—though it did lead to some complications with the Alliance present during the time that I was healed—I've heard nothing but terrible things about the Forsaken as a whole, so when I saw this woman, I didn't doubt that whatever was about to happen between us, it wasn't going to be good.

"Come with me." Her voice was harsh, and it rasped as though the mere breath used to form the words were trying to flee her presence.

I took a step back.

She frowned. One of her hands slipped out of view behind the crates, though she kept the other one across the far side. "Look…miss. There's no need for violence." She finally pushed herself up and reached a bony finger down to tap one of the lids. "Especially not around these."

Before I could reply, Neesera's squirrel launched itself at the Forsaken, the same time that Neesera yelled through the crystal. "Get out of there no—"

A blade slammed into my crystal, shattering it, and I barely had time to dodge backwards as the Forsaken cleared the crates with an eerie, nimble ease. Her joints moved a bit too fluidly, like she couldn't feel the usual pains that warned people to stop lest they pull a muscle or dislocate something.

With a breath, I threw down a smoke bomb and dodged past her. It was my hope that she's assume I was retreating the way I'd come, and go looking for me that way, as I slipped a bit further into the village.

I really hoped I wouldn't have to fight her. After seeing what Mr. Blackheart was capable of, I had no desire to be up against another corpse.

Unfortunately, she wasn't alone. And she must have had some way to talk to her allies as well, for every corner I rounded seemed to have a Forsaken of some kind, watching the streets. I tried to sneak past one, but they had some method for detecting stealth.

He was relentless, too. I could dodge most of his attacks, but he caught me off guard with some sort of charge. He nearly had me, when I managed to smack my dagger into the back of his head and put some distance between the two of us again.

I rounded another corner, but I could already hear him recovering and shouting for help. There was no way I was going to get out of there by just running. So instead, I swung up onto one of the rooftops, using a stack of crates as a launch point.

Once I was up there, I waited for the Forsaken who had nearly caught me to go around the back of the building. He assumed I'd slipped around the other corner already and sprinted after. While he was heading in that direction, I launched myself off the roof onto another one.

I made it back to the streets and darted past a few more buildings—most likely they'd been shops at one point. I took shelter in one of the smaller ones and decided to wait out whatever hunt might be going on for me.

Well, that had been my intent.

You see, I have this awful habit of getting caught on a whim and doing things that don't always make the most sense. For example, I ran through a demonic portal not knowing where it even led. Another time, I decided to befriend a dragon, not knowing anything about dragons.

For the most parts, my blundering ways have actually turned out pretty good.

So when, after a few hours, I peeked out of my hiding spot and noticed that there were quite a few Forsaken guarding this one building in particular, I got curious.

Before I go on, you should know that there are several different types of rogues. Combat rogues use weapons and fight with finesse, using carefully calculated strikes to quickly take down their enemies. Assassination rogues do exactly what their name implies. They sneak around and kill people. Then, lastly, there's subtlety rogues. We scout things, gather information, and sometimes do a bit of trap disarming and sabotage.

Don't get me wrong. A great subtlety rogue can take out enemies easily. I am not great. Good, but that's as much as I would laud my abilities. I might be better, but the truth is I really don't want to hurt people. That must sound hypocritical, seeing as I give information to others so that _they_ can hurt people, but meh.

So yeah. As a subtlety rogue, I am pretty good at disappearing without leaving a trace that I was there. I'd messed up earlier because I was in shock and a little panicky, but at this point in time, I'd had time to calm my nerves and gather my wits.

And those wits decided that I should see what was in that building before I headed back to the others. After all, the Forsaken were likely not looking for me in this area.

I hoped.

So I snuck out the back of the building I was hiding in and through a few back streets, avoided a few guards—nothing like the ones causing the ruckus earlier—and found my way to the back of the building across the way after about…thirty minutes? I was being careful. After all, I didn't want to run into any other rogues.

The long story short, I made it to the building, only to find that all the windows were boarded up. I couldn't say if that had been done by the former inhabitants or the current ones. They did look a little dusty, but…meh. It wasn't important.

What was important, was seeing inside.

I thought about taking off a few boards, but I didn't want to open a window that someone was sitting beside or something. So instead, I watched the guards out front for another fifteen-ish minutes. Then, I used a few rogue tricks to distract them and slipped inside.

Once I was in, I have to say: I so wasn't prepared for this. Honestly, I don't know what I expected. Headquarters? Angry corpses plotting the demise of my world with charts and manifests?

What I found was a laboratory.

Several walls had been knocked out of place to make the entire interior a single space, and it was filled with tables cluttered with beakers and books and notes and all manner of research-y stuff.

There were Forsaken present, too. They were working with vials of the green liquid, heads bent a bit lower than the usual Forsaken hunch as they focused their attention so completely.

I was so enthralled with what they might be doing that I nearly didn't hear one of the guards coming in to check on them. Luckily, he paused to get something off the wall just around the corner. That was all the warning I needed to slip into hiding behind an old, half-teetering bookshelf.

The guard came in and spoke in a strange language that sounded hideous. They really had found a way to block the language spell.

However, what caught my interest—and horror—even more so than that was what he'd stopped to get before coming in through that door.

A gas mask.

Whatever they were working with, it was dangerous.

And I'd just waltzed in, exposing myself like an idiot.


	4. Chapter 4: For Russia

_A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing! Brath should be back in the next chapter or so._

…-…

So. Let's start with some good news.

I'm not plagued.

I didn't really even know that was a possibility, but apparently that was what Neesera was freaking out about?

So, yeah. There's that at least.

After my panic attack in the science lab, well, let's just say I hadn't lost that first rogue quite like I'd thought. She had apparently been tailing me, hoping that I would lead her to all my friends, since I obviously wasn't alone.

I'm a really bad rogue.

But that's not the point. That bookshelf I was hiding behind? Well, it was a bit away from the wall and while I'd thought it was perfect to hide behind, I'd forgotten that that kind of pipelines my options for escape as either forward or back. And it leaves me open from behind.

I didn't even know the other rogue was there until I found myself teetering toward the floor, blackness swooshing over my vision.

I had some nightmares where I was swimming in ooze and stuff. They were pretty messed up. Imagine skeletons and death and destruction and giant martini umbrellas. I don't…I'm not gonna try to interpret that.

However, when I did wake up, I found myself in a mildly intact hotel room with Neesera, Senta'ri, and Hendric. Brath was nowhere to be seen. If I had to guess, I doubt these Forsaken have aerial units—most likely they don't want to draw attention to themselves.

I was a little surprised that he hadn't burned half the village down to save me, but then…well maybe he didn't know I was missing. He doesn't exactly use his crystal like the rest of us do.

As I was sitting up, Neesera was beside me in a second, asking me if anything hurt and if I felt 'odd' anywhere.

I was a little confused by that part, but this raspy, familiar voice interrupted her fretting. "I already told you, we're not working with the plague here."

Turning my head, even as Neesera muttered something about trusting them, I saw the same Forsaken woman from before. That rogue. Her head was turned slightly as though she was watching me, and when I looked into those empty eye sockets, she smirked at my cringe.

"I took them out myself," she commented, not moving from where she leaned next to the door. She flipped one of her daggers through the air, catching it by its point. "I'll let them know you're all awake now."

Without another word, she slipped out of the room. I heard a lock click into place behind her. Though I wondered briefly if I could pick it, I somehow doubted that she was our only guard.

Well, while the whole ordeal was puzzling, I didn't have much time to think about it. Neesera and Senta'ri both hopped onto my bed, sitting near me and leaning in so that they could take turns interrupting one another as they tried to explain how the Forsaken manufactured the plague and all that in Azeroth. Senta'ri told me about the Undercity and its moat of glowing green goop. Neesera explained something called the Wrathgate incident, where some of the Forsaken betrayed the Alliance—and Horde, Senta'ri was quick to point out—by plaguing them instead of helping fight someone called a Lich King.

Anyway, I've said this before, but there aren't a lot of stories circulating around where the Forsaken swoop in and save kittens from trees or help little old ladies across the street…unless they're helping said old lady across the street to their lab to experiment on her.

So the fact that we were trapped in an unknown location by a bunch of crazies who like experimenting on people wasn't exactly reassuring.

Now, the whole while that Neesera and Senta'ri had been chattering away, Hendric had been really quiet. Granted, the dwarf doesn't often make a point of talking a lot. He's kind of stoic like that.

But when Neesera and Senta'ri started suggesting we try to break out or contact Brath and see if he could break us out?

He punched the wall.

Well, he probably would have swung his axe into it, if our weapons hadn't been taken from us.

It was kind of funny, in a twisted sort of way. His fist went through the wall. And then, when he finally managed to pull it back, another, very boney and dead hand followed his through the hole and flipped us the bird.

So of course I went over to check it out. I guess we'd been holed up next to the guards' break room? I could see a dozen of the undead just hanging out in the room, not particularly doing anything—perhaps because they knew they were being watched.

That makes me wonder, though. Do they actually need breaks? I mean, it's not like they can get tired or anything, can they? Maybe it's a psychological weariness? Do they ever eat or drink just out of habit or to try to remember what it was like?

Before I could think to say anything to them, one of them moved a poster over the hole to block our view.

Hendric walked over to the far wall and waited for the rest of us to come over before he began speaking. Mostly, he directed his words at me, since he knew I wasn't quite so biased. "Look, lass. The Forsaken are some mean buggers, don't get me wrong. They blighted a whole town back in Azeroth. However, I've been ta South Shore. I've seen the damage." He shifted his weight a little. "This isn't the same. When we were being led through here…I seen plants growing. There's no way they'd be growing so close to the plague. It kills everything, and ye be a damned fool to not notice it." He glared at the other two. "There been vines and grasses all through this area. I even saw one of those little yellow flowers."

"Dandelions?"

"Aye."

I considered what he'd said. However, it was Senta'ri who replied, "Ah seen dis befora. Lissen, mon. Dey got all kindsa plague in Tirisfal 'n dere still be grasses dere. It ain' so simple ta tell."

"And I'm tellin' ye, I've been through Tirisfal," Hendric snapped. "I'm a damned explorer, lad. I've seen every inch of Azeroth…save that new continent in the south…" He looked a little wistful for a split second before continuing. "Anythin' growin' in Tirisfal is sickly like, ye see. It ain't so healthy. I ain't a shaman or anythin', but the stuff here's got a freshness to it. It ain' on the verge of dyin'. It's new."

Neesera hesitated and then wandered to the window. It had been boarded up, but it had been done from the inside. With the nails rusting away, it was easy for her to pull off one of the planks. As she leaned it against the wall, she looked out and jumped. There was a Forsaken standing near the window, a large mace resting on one of his shoulders as he stood with his other hand on his hip.

"I am not running away," Neesera stated, staring at the guard with wide eyes.

I had to say, they _really_ didn't want us running away.

The Forsaken hadn't made an attempt to respond and Neesera hesitated, peeking out just a little, at the ground. Then her gaze went back to the Forsaken. He hadn't moved. "I would like to pick that flower."

Silence followed.

It wasn't until Neesera started to try to get a second board off the window so that she could lean out that our guard stepped forward, picked something and held it out to her. She took the tiny stem in her delicate fingers, and in a blink the guard was back to his earlier pose, as though he'd never left it.

Neesera frowned as she examined the little purple flower. I'm not great with plants, but I think it was a violet. Or maybe not. It was purple.

Well, even as Neesera went to commune with it or whatever—later she did express that the reason she was having trouble getting a read on all the nature-y stuff was because being in close proximity to something as unnatural as a large group of Forsaken threw off her connection with the elements—the door to our room opened, and I couldn't believe who stepped through that door.

I also couldn't believe he _fit_ through that door.

Okay, you know those action movies where there's that stupidly ripped guy that makes all the guys you know in real life look like dweebs, even if they can, like, bench 200 lbs? The one that's basically a walking wall, shooting guns and shouldering bazookas like they weigh the same as a puppy and stuff?

That's V.

The Russian loyalist I was telling you about.

Except he uses magic.

That's right. The buffest guy I know flings spells at people. There's still kind of a stigma here on Earth that spell casters like mages—we don't allow warlocks unless they're from Azeroth and even then they're treated very poorly—are weak and easy to take out. Not because of their spells or anything. They kick ass with magic. I guess most mages are kind of scrawny, though? Like, they're stereotypically the kids who got bullied in school and stuff for being small. So some people are still kind of dicks to them.

Honestly though, I don't think people would try to fight V one on one. Like, even if you got close enough to interrupt his spells, he can still punch you hard enough to crack your skull.

I think.

I mean, he has to be able to with all of those muscles.

They're not just there for show.

Anyway! It was V standing there. With the Forsaken.

He gave me a broad grin when he saw me and waved. "Amy Ford. I should have known any human rogues here would have to be you." He walked over to the bed nearest the door and sat down. I heard the frame creak under him. "You must tell me; what are you doing here?"

The Forsaken rogue from earlier was leaning in the doorway again, though she didn't bother to close it. I saw a few other undead walk by. And then a living human. He was talking to one of the Forsaken scientists in a hushed tone and didn't even afford our room a glance.

V has the patience of a saint. He waited for us to gather the scattered bits of our blown minds without so much as tapping his toes. Finally, I sat down next to him. The bed felt like it was at a bit of an angle.

"Look, we heard there were…" I paused, glancing at our guard. "You know some of the rumors going around…"

"The body snatcher rumors. I am familiar with them, yes." The rogue in the doorway scoffed, but said nothing when V gave her a cross look. As he turned back to me, he arched an eyebrow. "As you can see, there are no bodies being snatched."

I leaned toward him. "But what's going on here? It can't be good—"

"On the contrary," V shook his head. "The Forsaken are possibly the only people who can help us with Rasseeya."

I should point out, even with the language spells, people still have accents. Like, I would have an American accent speaking Japanese to someone from Japan or an American accent speaking Portuguese to someone from Portugal. And then I hear them with a Portuguese accent or Japanese accent speaking English. It's really odd and Fizz said he was going to figure out how to fix it someday, but it's not really pressing enough for anyone to go out of their way to do at the moment.

Anyway, V must have known English before the spell, because he speaks pretty clear, but I can still really hear his accent when he says Russia and stuff like that.

I don't mean to get so off topic.

I remember that I fish-mouthed for a moment before finally asking, "Why them?"

"Because we're already dead," replied the Forsaken rogue in the doorway. She was playing with a few locks of limp, dead hair, clearly bored.

When I looked back at V, he ran a hand down his face. "Amy…and friends…" He nodded to each of my companions in turn, even pausing to inspect Cat, Senta'ri's pet, who was curled up and watching us from the corner. The giant animal's fur was dark and blended into the shadows so well that I hadn't even noticed her there. "This is not a pleasant tale, but if you can keep it to yourselves, I will tell you."

We all nodded.

For a moment, it seemed like he wasn't going to say anything. Then, he motioned for us to follow him and stepped out of the room. He walked down the hall and out into the foyer—the hotel was hardly that now that we could see the rest of the building. It looked like it had been made into a makeshift barracks, though what it had once been, I couldn't say.

There were quite a few living people here, mingling with the Forsaken. Most of them looked like scholars or scientists, though. Mages, basically. Almost all of them spoke with Russian accents, too.

V led us out front, onto the street. He walked into the middle of it and then turned to us, waiting for us to stop near him. With one hand, he pointed up to the sky. "Tell me, Amy, what do you see?"

I was puzzled, but complied. I half expected Brath to be bearing down on us or something. However, all there was overhead was the dark gray clouds scattered across the horizon. If I looked west, I could see them tapering off with hints of blue breaking through, but there were more to the east. They looked thicker there, like a storm was coming in.

I frowned as I realized that they'd been that way since I'd come to Wales. I could remember commenting to Brath and Senta'ri that I'd hoped we would outrun the storm, only to forget about it when it never came.

"In the Western hemisphere, the clouds have mostly receded. It _is_ receding here, but much slower." V sighed and tugged on one of his sleeves. "And, you may not know this, but it is colder here than it should be. It is colder everywhere than it should be. That is why crops have been struggling and why we are digging ourselves more and more into debt with Azeroth."

"I don't get it," I replied slowly. I will never be recorded as one of the great thinkers of my time. "The demons brought the clouds and as we push them back—"

"No, Amy." With a halfhearted laugh, V held up a hand to keep me from arguing. "They did not bring this. This was our doing." He paused, looking back toward the east. "In all the stories people used to scare others out of nuclear war, they say that a hundred strategically placed nukes would send us into a global nuclear winter that would kill everything." Looking back at us, at me, he pointed toward the east. "This is what happens when you use only seventeen."

I felt light headed. "You mean, the U.S. attacked—"

"What? No," V laughed abruptly. "Amy, you are a good person, but you suffer the same as every other American. You are not the only people in the world." His sadness was replaced with an odd sort of pride. "They came down from the north to take us. Our cities were falling one after another. Rasseeya decided that if it was going to fall, we would do so on our terms. We did what we could to find their base in the northern wilds and bombarded it."

"With _seventeen_?"

With a shrug, V dismissed my dismay. "From what I am told, we could not quite find it. Better to be safe when smiting monsters, yes?"

"You started a nuclear winter!"

"I do not see why you are complaining," V frowned. "It is not like we bombed your country. And it is fairly localized. Another…" With a sigh he shrugged again. "It will go away. My people are used to the cold. We will persevere and rebuild Rasseeya better."

It was a bit much to take in. In all honesty, I'd never really considered what had made the clouds. If I'd been asked before this, I likely would have floundered and finally said that it was the demons' evil presence or something. But this…

"What about the radiation?"

"That is where the Forsaken come in," V nodded to the rogue, who was standing beside us. "They are helping us gather samples and find a way to neutralize the radiation so that it will not negatively impact the environment. It is a long road, but we are working."

"Be grateful you stumbled across this area instead of the one further west," the rogue offered, a hint of fake sweetness to her rasping voice.

Laughing, V nodded. "Here, we are manufacturing the solvent that will negate any harmful effects. You go fifty miles from here to the west, and you fill find where we are storing small amounts of nuclear waste to test on."

"I've heard some of the Forsaken there are already starting to glow."

The rogue really enjoys saying things for shock value. I'll get to that later.

"The Welsh are cool with you doing this?" I asked, suddenly inspecting the area with renewed interest.

"They are…not so much aware," V admitted, grimacing as though admitting such a truth was distasteful. "However, we need a place where the demons are not likely to attack, where people are gone, with plenty of space."

"There've gotta be dozens of countries you could go to."

"Yes, and we are in pretty much all of those dozens," V reached up and scratched his chin. "Now, Amy. I am telling you this because from what I have seen of you, if you or your friends decide you are going to do something, you do it. I cannot have you deciding to destroy this facility. I cannot have you bringing attention to this facility. What we are working on will benefit all of Earth, not just my people. It needs to be done."

"Then why does it need to be a secret?"

"For one, we do not wish the demons to get a hold of our nuclear studies." V started back toward the building. "When we were taking back Rasseeya, they managed to get a hold of one of our nuclear plants. We were able to stop them from firing most of the missiles, but not before they bombed Moskva. Those of us infiltrating the base were lucky. Otherwise, we'd have perished with the others in the city."

And there it was. The reason that we'd lost Moscow was…sort of our own fault. If we'd never split the atom, they wouldn't have been able to do that…

I felt a little sick, thinking about the people there. How many had survived through hell just to have _that_ happen?

A hand rested on my shoulder, dwarfing it, and I looked up at V. He grinned at me. "Also, you know how people react to anything nuclear. We would like to have this mess cleaned up before others find out just what we did. I don't want my people persecuted for making the rest of the world need sweaters for a few years." He stopped at the doorway leading in and directed one of the guards to get our weapons. "Now then, you will keep our secret, yes?"

I stared at him for a moment, wondering if people would really go after anyone from Russia, just because of what their government had done to try to stop the Legion. It broke my heart to realize that there were people who would.

"I won't tell a soul." The others echoed the sentiment. I think it would have been easier for them, anyway, as they didn't quite know about nuclear stuff the way people of my world did.

"Excellent!" V clapped his hands together, making a mini boom with the air caught between his hands. He smiled at the rogue with us. "I told you we would not have to kill them!"


	5. Chapter 5: Split Up

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews :) I'm sorry that this chapter is a little short, but it's setting up for the next few._

…-…

So I gotta say, I don't really know what to do.

I mean, part of me wants to find some way to help Russia with its nuclear meltdown, but at the same time, I don't really see how I could help? I'm no scientist or undead who can walk around carrying toxic materials without it stopping my already un-beating heart.

It seems that the best I can do is help push back the Legion so that we have more resources to dedicate to such projects.

And maybe clear the Forsaken's name when it comes to all those body snatching rumors.

Well…

Actually, they don't seem terribly bothered by it. Some of them were even making jokes about digging up spare parts if the radiation got too bad, and part of me thinks that they're the ones who started those rumors to begin with. I don't really know what to make of them.

I've said this before, but a rather sadistic warlock is my real reference for them, along with all those horror stories, so I guess I always expected that they'd all be horrible monsters.

Maybe that's why it's even stranger that so many of them seem like normal people.

It's eerie.

Anyway, it seemed that we would not be needed to thwart some new evil bearing down upon our world. And that meant we might as well leave V and his fellow scientists to their own devices. We might have stayed longer, but I wanted to check on Brath.

It was weird because it seemed like, with all the stuff around the town, he would have come down to make sure I was okay, right?

So I was kind of worried.

And I think I offended this one Forsaken warrior, because I asked him if they'd shot down any dragons lately. He got all grumbly and said that they had some sort of mage spell cloaking the activities from the air, so Brath wouldn't have seen anything out of the ordinary.

However, it made me wonder. My crystal had been destroyed. Wouldn't he have cared that he couldn't get in touch with me?

At this point, I was starting to feel a little clingy—dumb, I know, but I wanted to know what had happened. Neesera was working on making me a new crystal, but it wouldn't be ready for a few days. Well, we'd decided to head back to where our camp had been to see if he was waiting for us there—wouldn't Brath have noticed that there was no one there and come looking for us?—when this human guy came running up to us.

He'd heard that I had been asking about dragons.

Apparently, earlier that day, they had seen Brath flying overhead, making a few lazy circles. However, while he was in the middle of one, just as they were wondering if they'd need to send some message up to him to see what he was doing, he'd abruptly stopped in midair. He'd hovered there for a minute and then taken off toward the north. From the sounds of it, he'd been going pretty fast.

It sounded really…weird.

Senta'ri made a joke that the Forsaken were sending us off on a wild goose chase so that they could keep Brath for themselves. Hendric noticed how pale that thought made me, and he nudged the troll to get him to shut up.

Well, we'd just reached our camp—after all, Brath could have come back by now—when out of nowhere, V comes charging after us. You'd think with the speed he was going and all that he'd be out of breath, but no. The man is beyond physically fit. He's like a god.

And I swear the ground shakes a little when his feet thud into it while he's running.

So not kidding.

Anyway, as seems to be my luck, we were not going to have a quiet evening of where's my lizard boyfriend.

Oh, no.

"Neesera! Your presence is required elsewhere," V had said once he caught up and loomed over the rest of us. When we looked puzzled, he frowned. "Something has happened to one of the portals? I do not know which one it is, but they are calling for certain people and you're on the list."

She stopped in her tracks, tilting her head. "What is the matter exactly?"

"They won't say."

"And how do you know I am needed?" Neesera crossed her arms, a feigned look of mistrust on her face.

He gave her a crooked grin. I should note, they stand eye level to each other. He's probably one of the biggest humans she's ever seen. However, with a shrug, he motioned to her. "We keep in touch with some in the quest hubs so that we get a heads up if there are exploratory parties heading our way. They forwarded the lists to us in case we knew any of the people on them."

With that, he cast a quick portal and then bowed toward it, peeking up to smile at Neesera. She started toward it and then stopped, one curl half twisted around her finger. "That is the portal to Stormwind."

"That is where they need you, miss."

It was weird. Neesera just stared at the portal for a moment. "You are sure it is me they wish for? If you are wrong, it will take me a month to get back here."

"Neesera Lightsong, draenei shaman. Former Peacekeeper of the Karabor Temple?"

She actually winced at that title. Of all the time I'd known her, it suddenly occurred to me that I'd never really talked to her about her past. She'd told me of Argus and Draenor before, but it had always been in such sweeping strokes. I knew of her people's history, but not hers.

With a little smile, she patted my head. "I will be in touch, Amy. Be safe."

And with that, she was gone.

I stared at the blurry image of Stormwind. "Why would they need a shaman to fix a portal?"

"I do not know," V shrugged, watching the spell blink out of existence. "The list had many who are not mages. All either present or former Peacekeepers."

"No others?" Hendric asked, head cocked.

Senta'ri stepped up as well, Cat pacing at his side. "What about de Horde?"

"I haven't heard anything about Horde groups being called back," V shrugged. As he did so, he rummaged through one of his pockets and pulled out a small crystal, similar to the ones we used to talk through. He ran his fingers over it and then it projected a list of names that he could scroll through with a wave of his finger, almost like he was using a smart phone.

Even as Hendric grunted and said something about asking people for updates, I realized that Neesera had left with my new crystal. So basically, I had no way of contacting anyone, much less Brath.

A four letter word or two may have left my mouth when I realized this.

However, when I explained why, Senta'ri had just patted my head and laughed, pointing out that Brath stayed in touch with Mr. Blackheart—that annoying warlock—and that Mr. Blackheart stayed in touch with him. If worse came to worst, the grapevine would be activated and we'd hear from him.

Well, V headed back into town and the three of us debated what we'd do. With our mounts we could head north, but I didn't know how far Brath had gone. We figured we wouldn't run into anymore Forsaken, as they'd said they were working more to the west.

With that, we checked our supplies and headed north, hoping that we'd meet Brath on his way back to us.


	6. Chapter 6: All Mixed Up

_A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing! I suppose this length isn't too bad. I just always shoot for at least 4 pages for a chapter and feel horrible when I don't reach that, haha._

…-…

So.

I feel like I start a lot of my thoughts with that lately. Maybe I do. That's not really relevant though.

See, apparently Azeroth is being invaded or something? Well, okay. What we've heard is pretty, what's the word? Vague? Sketchy? Some of it's lies, some of it is true, and from where we are, it's really hard to tell the difference.

But apparently Azeroth is being invaded again. My first thoughts were, 'Oh, God, the Legion is kicking their ass while they're down so that my world will just kind of collapse in on itself.'

Because, of course, everything is about my world, right?

But it's not the Legion, so yay for that.

It's the Horde. But not the Horde. The Horde from like thirty years ago? So it's orcs invading—which I guess they did before—a land they already tried to invade. And it's kind of the same orcs that did it before that are doing it now somehow? Except they're a different color?

I'm not gonna lie, I'm really confused. However, it's not just me! See, Hendric got word from Neesera and passed it on to me and Senta'ri. He didn't even want to at first. He'd gone off to the side when his crystal rang, for lack of a better word, and when he came back, he just looked like his head hurt. A lot.

So we made him tell us.

And then all three of us sat there, likely all looking equally puzzled.

And it's not like we can just turn to someone more knowledgeable and have them explain. Because there is no one. We haven't been able to get a hold of Neesera again, either.

Well, Hendric is very concerned. He actually lives in the southern human territories with his partner, Matt. When I asked when was the last time he saw Matt—I mean, I haven't seen Brath in a few days and I'm getting panicky—he just mumbled something about space and then it made me think that Brath might be the Hendric to my Matt. Like, I need him more than he needs me.

Anyway. I'm so off topic.

So Hendric was worried about Matt, saying something about the how the man couldn't fight his way out of a paper sack. He headed back to that village where we found the Forsaken, hoping to hit V up for a portal.

At that point, we were already two days north, but he told us that he'd call Senta'ri when he got there safe and sound. And he'd let us know when he had more information.

That night I ended up talking a bit with Senta'ri, and I learned that apparently Azeroth really can't get a break.

I knew a bit before, but…

I mean, I've heard mention of Lich Kings and old gods and stuff, but Senta'ri laid out a timeline for me. Holy crap. It's not like problem A happened and then thirty years later problem B happened. Most of them are only a few years apart. Their problems literally never stop.

And now that Garrosh disappeared, this is happening. Senta'ri said that he'd bet anything that 'burly bastard' had something to do with it. He said that they should have just locked him in an underground vault to starve.

I mean, crap. I've never seen him this angry.

Granted, with all the stuff I'd heard Garrosh doing, I can't really argue.

Oh, fun fact? Apparently those first Hordies who came to my world's rescue were unsanctioned.

Basically what happened was Mr. Blackheart went to his guild leader and told them what was going on. A guard heard and stopped the guild—because, like, the _whole_ guild was going to come—and told them they couldn't go. Orders from Garrosh Hellscream.

So what did they do? They went to a battleground and _somehow_ a bunch of supplies caught fire, so their battleground was horribly under-stocked. At the same time _someone_ heard a rumor that the Alliance was planning a huge attack. So they needed their supplies. Well, with this many Alliance crawling around, obviously the messengers would need protection, so it would have to be a group that went and came back.

So Mr. Blackheart was nominated to deliver the warning, with a few buddies covering him to make sure those dastardly Alliance didn't jump him on his way back to the battleground. And then he asked for a portal to Orgrimmar, but a mage in the guild accidentally used the wrong spell. Oh no, they ended up in Shattrath instead. Since it was the mage's fault, she went to deliver the message while the others got roped up in a weird Shattrath project that they simply _had_ to do since the remnants of the Black Flight were threatening them if they didn't do it.

Senta'ri was laughing his whole way through that story. But then I asked him how his guild was doing, and he got kind of quiet. I guess he was kicked out because he was inactive for so long? Which is bull shit, by the way. He's done so much for us out here. But I guess that doesn't count. While he's been here, Ripper and the others have been battling across some mysterious continent, fighting those giant panda bears or something.

I should keep better track of what happens Azeroth.

I told him if I had a guild, he could be in mine. He just patted my head and told me that I was too adorable to be a guild leader.

That's the first time he's ever said something like that, and I think I got flustered, because he laughed at me again. I mumbled that he shouldn't hit on me when we were trying to find my boyfriend.

That made him laugh harder.

He told me that I was a bit too scrawny and, well, human for his tastes. He just thought it was cute how I was trying to make him feel better and stuff.

Our conversation hit a bit of a lull for a while.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked me a question I'd never expected.

"Wat ya see in dat dragon a ya's, nehway?" When I simply blinked at him, dumbfounded, he shrugged, lacing his fingers over his stomach as he leaned back against Cat. "Everehbodeh always tiptoein' around dis topic, not knowin' how ta talk ta ya about it, but Ah figure what de hell, yeh? Ya know Ah be ya friend."

"Brath's not so bad."

"He always be threatenin' ta eat ya friends."

"No," I argued. "Well, maybe. But he doesn't mean it."

"Yeh, he does," Senta'ri let out a disbelieving laugh. "Ya rememba a year ago when Ah been askin' ya ta go wit' meh back ta de Echo Isles? When Ah said de otha trolls be lovin' ta meet ya?"

"And then you said plans changed last minute," I murmured. Honestly, I'd been a bit sore about that. I don't want to sound like a slacker, but I'd been excited about the thought of a few weeks of a break. To be able to sit back and learn about another culture without having to worry about demonic attacks and all…

So I'd been pretty upset when it was put off. However, Senta'ri had sent me a letter saying that he was sorry and that things had come up, making it a bad time for me to visit.

And I guess things really had come up? He'd been saying that there was fighting, but that the trolls could still show a guest a good time, when suddenly he'd changed his tune and said that perhaps the fighting _was_ a bit too much for the time being.

He held up his hand, waving his third finger. There was a small scar running around its base. "Ya dragon bit mah finga off when Ah told him dat, if he didn' want ta come, he could let ya outta his sight fa a bit. He said de next appendage Ah lose be a more impo'tant one."

"That…" I stared at him. Holy crap. What?

"Tell meh, when been de last time ya got a letta from Fizz? Or dat worgen, Eric?"

"It's…been a while. They're busy."

"Ah know fa a fact dey write ya evereh month." Senta'ri leaned forward, pointing at the ground with a long finger. "He be interceptin' ya mail. Fizz been askin' ya ta come visit him back in Booteh Bay. Did ya even know he went back to Azeroth? He been there fa almost a year now."

I didn't know what to say to that.

"Ameh, Ah don' want ya ta tink Ah tryin' ta ruin ya relationship a sometin', but Ah realleh don' see what ya see in him. It be like he tryin' ta make sure ya don' have aneh friends."

I sat there, not knowing what to say. Brath had always been a little grumbly around people, but I'd thought he was getting better. I mean, he's kind of a dick, but not…

Not like this.

When I was still in high school, my best friend, Bethany, got into a relationship with a real dick. He wouldn't let her go out anywhere, told her she wasn't worth anything, did everything short of actually hitting her.

It took me a month to compile a list of stuff to prove that he _was_ an abusive jerk, even if he hadn't laid a finger on her.

She'd finally dumped him, and it had taken her a long time to get over that. A few others and I would greet her everyday telling her that she looked great and stuff, and it was still a long time before she really believed it. He'd decimated her confidence.

One time, she'd told me that she was proud of me, because she knew I'd never be in a relationship like that. She knew that I wouldn't let anyone make me feel like less of a person.

I think she had a bit too much faith in me, because I've certainly felt like crap throughout my adventures—I'd rather not remember the time I was jealous of a twelve-year-old and thought that he was better at life than I was—but…

But it really bothered me how close _this_ conversation was to that one.

"Brath has always been there for me," I told Senta'ri. "Sure, he started off just wanting me to take off his reins, but after I did, he came back. He jumped through all sorts of hoops to save me. He even became…monogamous because I told him I didn't want to be in a relationship where my partner had others." I frowned. "And I'm still getting mail. I still hear from a dozen friends. Just before we left here, I got a note from Fluffy telling me about some adventures he's having with Ripper and Miksa in someplace called the Dread Wastes. A few days before that I got a note from Cisty. She and her friends are making an initiative to retake their home…Gnomer-something. I got a letter from Kelveris saying that he's coming back to Earth because things were finally dying down with Garrosh."

Senta'ri seemed genuinely surprised, like he'd expected me to say that no one ever talked to me anymore and that Brath was my only lifeline. The two of us sat there in silence for a moment. He drummed his fingers against his chin as I stared into our small campfire.

"Ah wonda what be makin' him cut ya contact wit' de ones he been intaceptin', den."

I shook my head. "I don't know, but when we find him, I'm gonna find out."


	7. Chapter 7: Falling Apart

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews, and also thank you for having some faith in Brath._

…-…

Fuck.

I hate cursing, but…that's all I can say right now.

On the one hand, I can almost be happy because, well…I found Brath. It actually took us a while—three weeks. Every day that went by, I kept thinking that maybe Brath had doubled back, and we'd missed him. After all, he might not have expected us to follow him, or he might have been doing a circular flight or…something.

Wales is a relatively small country, but it's huge when you're looking for one person, and he could have been absolutely anywhere. By the time we hit the coast, we weren't even sure if Brath would still be _in_ the country.

I was freaking out.

I wanted answers, and the more I thought about it, the less sense it made. My mind was working in circles, driving me crazy.

I'm glad that Senta'ri was there. My mind kept playing through all these different scenarios where demons had gotten Brath or something—or that maybe they'd gotten him a long time ago—and the longer the time drew on, the more I thought that something had better be wrong with him, because otherwise I was going to have to kill him for this.

We found him near the beach. He was in dragon form, and he was literally just sitting there, breathing fire at the waves and turning them into steam.

At first, despite everything, I was just so glad to see him, because he was in one piece. But then, I got really angry, especially when I saw what he was doing. I mean, really? He made me wait for three weeks so that he could play with water?

Really?

Surely he'd been up to other stuff while he was up here. When I looked down, I could see that the beach was a mass of footprints and tail swipes. He'd definitely been here most of the time.

Well, I started to kick my mount into a sprint when Senta'ri reached out and grabbed my reins. His brow was scrunched down, like he wasn't sure he trusted what he saw. Almost like he thought maybe this wasn't Brath.

My mind went straight to the Legion, of course.

After that, we approached carefully. When we got close enough that he could hear us easily—Senta'ri was still acting really cautious—I called out to him.

He didn't respond at first, instead smoke curled out of his mouth, vaporizing the latest waves. When I called to him again, he perked up.

He didn't change back into his human form, though.

"Amy, I take it the village was empty?"

"No, it wasn't." I murmured. When he swung his scaly head toward me, curiosity in his eyes—along with something else. It was a weird sort of…haze. Like he wasn't quite there. "It's not important, really. There's no merit to those rumors about the Forsaken."

"I suppose that's a happy reassurance to your graveyards," he let out a low laugh. He inspected me and then Senta'ri, cocking his head in that inhuman manner. "The others are gone? And you couldn't lose that one, too?"

Anger boiled up in me. I don't know how, but I kept my tone calm. "They had to go back to Azeroth." He abruptly lost interest, shrugged, and nestled down into the sand. "Why didn't you come back?"

"I figured you would call for me when it was time to leave," He stopped, sitting up again and twisting around until he faced me fully. Then, as an afterthought, he shifted to his human form and dug through his pockets. He pulled out the crystal and waved it. "Nothing."

"My crystal was destroyed."

"'n ya not answerin' mah calls," Senta'ri grumbled.

"You are not Amy," Brath retorted, frowning. He seemed to consider the flaw in his logic—and perhaps his complete and utter lack of respect for Senta'ri—and slipped his crystal back into his pocket. He started toward us. "Time to leave then, I take it? Where are we going? Back to fighting the Legion? I preferred Greenland, if I have a say in where we go."

He had reached his mount—of course we'd brought the creature with us. I reached out and grabbed his hand. "How can you act so nonchalant?"

"Hmm?" He frowned. When I didn't reply immediately he gave me an irate look. "You know I don't follow all that circular logic that spins around in those mortal heads of yours—"

"Ya be a mortal too, now," Senta'ri muttered.

Brath ignored him, literally picking up where he'd been cut off as soon as the troll finished speaking, "—so you'll have to explain."

"Really?" I couldn't keep my anger in anymore. "I have to explain how it's not cool that you disappeared for three weeks? Three weeks! That's how long it took us to find you! Three! Weeks!"

He blinked at me, his golden eyes widening with pure…shock.

At the time, I assumed it was because I was actually losing my cool. "And, while you're gone, I find that you've been threatening my friends? Like, serious threats? That you've been intercepting my mail? Acting like a legit, complete dick? Not just a jerk with people issues? What is _wrong_ with you?"

"Nothing!" He shouted the word, startling all of the mounts and Cat. He took a few steps back, eyes still wide. He stood there for a moment before bringing a hand up and running it through his hair. "Nothing."

"Then why?" I dismounted and stalked up to him, despite Senta'ri's hasty whispers to stay where I was. "Why were you gone for three weeks?"

"I didn't…know so much time had passed by." He seemed almost scared for a second before his usual arrogance—or a farce of it—swept over his features. "Forgive me. I'm used to time being rather meaningless in the long run."

I stopped. My mind was still stuck on that flicker of fear. Even so, I still couldn't stop myself. "Why would you go through my mail? Why threaten my friends?"

"You know how people exaggerate issues—"

"Fizz has been writing me monthly. I haven't heard from him in over a year. Eric's been writing me..."

Brath gave Senta'ri a most scornful glare—no doubt figuring he was the one who'd told me. I caught his chin and made him look at me. "Who else? What other friends of mine are you stopping me from talking to?"

"No one important," he muttered.

"You don't get to make that call," I hissed. I could see Bethany curled up by her window, the fight drained out of her after all that bastard of a boyfriend had done. I wouldn't be like that. Not ever. Not because of a guy.

"All they wanted to do was talk about Azeroth. Those were the only letters I took," Brath hissed, suddenly almost frantic.

"Which means you've been reading all of them to know that!"

"Remember what you told me? When we were first crossing the sea from Stormwind to Kalimdor?" He looked like he was pleading with me not be unreasonable. Like I was the one acting out of line. "You said it yourself. You don't care what happens to Azeroth." He began pacing. "I've been helping. You don't need to feel obligated to help them with their problems just because they helped you here. There's no need for guilt trips or—"

"Azeroth?" I couldn't follow his logic. "The last letter from Cisty that you so generously allowed through was all about Azeroth!"

"But _she_ wasn't asking you to go back!" He snapped, his fists clenching as he took a step toward me.

"And? That's what this is about?" I shouted back. "What's so bad with me helping my friends? With me seeing where they're from and—"

"Because I can't go with you." His voice wavered.

It was literally the first time I'd ever heard him sound genuinely terrified.

Just like that, the fight was gone from him. I stared at him. It was my turn to be shocked. "What?"

"I can't go back to Azeroth."

I frowned. "I know Wrathion threatened you, but we could always take it up with him and—"

"You don't understand," Brath's shoulders slumped and he looked around as though he were seeing his surroundings for the first time. Then, he was angry. The air around us seemed to heat up. "And what about what you said? What you promised! You said you didn't care what happened to Azeroth! That's why this has been okay," he motioned between the two of us. "They don't mind if you don't intend to interfere."

"Fuck, mon," Senta'ri whispered. I heard him rustling through his bags, but I didn't look toward him. I was too dumbstruck.

At first, I could barely follow what he was talking about. None of it was making any sense. But then, I thought back and it slowly began to sink in. I remembered him frying some animal so that I would eat it and then talking about how the earth was in pain. I remembered how I'd thought he looked like a killer, how he'd talked about someone—he'd never said who—told him that the earth hurt.

How he'd warned me not to argue with them.

And then I'd done the most despicable thing that I think I may have ever done. I practically gave whatever it was my blessing, so long as my world would be saved.

Then, just like that, I remembered Eric and his group, and how they'd explained to me why the Black Dragonflight were bad. They'd explained to me the Black Dragons' masters.

The old gods.

I guess my world wasn't a far enough away place to run to after all.


	8. Chapter 8: Bouncing Around

_A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing! I'm so sorry I missed last week's update. Double chapter update for this week, though, to make up for it._

…-…

If Brath ever sees Senta'ri again, he's probably going to kill him.

Heck, I feel like _I_ want to.

Did you know that you can summon someone without their consent? Because apparently you can. It's hard to do—harder still if you're a human from my world, what with our magic resistance and all—but if you have say, half a coven of warlocks that owes you for something you helped them with a long time ago, then it can be done.

See, Senta'ri being the awesome friend that he is, sensed danger, and, as I was talking with Brath, he was busy contacting one of his old warlock buddies from his guild. Just as I was telling Brath that everything would be okay and that we'd figure something out, I find Senta'ri's arm around my shoulders and then…

Igh.

I can't accurately express how uncomfortable being summoned is. Honestly, I don't think anyone likes it? Not even mages. I think they just pretend they do because otherwise they'd have to admit that the powers they're playing with are a bit daunting, even to them. It's so hard to explain, but while you're being summoned, it feels like you're not you anymore. Like, you've come apart at seams you never even knew you had, only to be pieced back together a few seconds later—it doesn't feel like seconds while you're being transported, but it is—and I've always had this innate terror that one day someone's gonna summon me, and they won't bring the full package to where they are. It's why I prefer to walk or fly or ride places.

I digress.

So Senta'ri called in favors to 'save' us from the crazy dragon.

That would have been well and good—I'd have still be really, really angry, but I wouldn't have been this pissed—if we hadn't been summoned to the middle of Orgrimmar.

I don't know if you're aware but, like I said, there was a bad war. Mr. Hellscream was deposed by Alliance who basically raided Orgrimmar. Now, the Horde may have a tenuous peace agreement with the humans of my world, but the thing is, we're still not really welcome in their cities, as it'd be easy for some to confuse us with Azerothian humans—apparently the elves have no trouble telling the difference. Yay for magical differences.

Regardless, even with Senta'ri vouching for me, I was taken into custody, just until my name could be cleared and all. See, as Senta'ri had made my world his home, he wasn't quite as credible as he used to be with his buds.

And that could have turned out okay.

Except I wasn't the only one in their dungeons.

Backtracking a bit, most of the Alliance who originally assisted me with saving my world were from the same guild. Apparently that same guild was the one to raid Orgrimmar, and they'd been allowed to leave. Except a few of them came back?

Only one was captured though.

Kelveris Duskleaf, leader of the Crusaders' Remembrance.

Even that might not have been so bad.

Except that as soon as he saw me led in, he waved furiously—despite his shackles—and then told them that we were old friends and that I was an honorary guild member.

That last bit was news to me.

After the orc and troll guards had left me—likely to rot—he shuffled over and tried to be all friendly-like. Well, I was in no mood for talking, but he was super cheerful. He kept asking me questions to which I would either glare his way sulkily or just grunt an answer and let him figure out if it was negative or affirmative.

Then, for the second time that day, an old friend looped their arm around my shoulders, and I was summoned away. Again.

If you've ever been summoned twice in one day, you'll know about the headaches. It's like the world is tearing at those seams you just learned you had, trying to figure out if maybe you weren't quite pieced back together correctly after all.

It is nauseating.

And of course, I didn't have time to really focus on that, because I was surrounded by warlocks, which is to say I was surrounded by fel magic. So it felt like demons all around—there actually were a few subjugated ones.

Kelveris told a few of the warlocks that they were horrible people, with a smile on his face, and they just told us to get out before they set us on fire for wasting their time.

So, I've been to Stormwind before. Long, long ago, Fizz sent me there, so that I could get help for my world. That's actually where and why I met Brath.

However, I didn't have much time to explore—read that as next to none—so when we stepped out into the sunlight, onto a gently sloping, grassy path, I was surprised. They call it the Mage District. If you didn't know about the warlocks—and ignore the constant rumblings from the explosions of spells gone awry—it looks really serene and peaceful.

Kelveris was frowning at it all as I took it in and told me that there was too many buildings. I told him that generally happened when one was in a city, and he insisted that he was going to take me by Darnasus at some point.

At least I'm better with names now.

Well, I told him that I needed to go back to my world, but even as he led me to this big tower in the middle of the district, grousing on and on about how I wasn't any fun and how I ought to stay and see the sights, say hello to some people, it occurred to me that just going back to my world wasn't going to help Brath.

He would still have those old gods whispering in his head. He'd still be…

Cursed or whatever it is.

I don't want to call him crazy because, I mean, the voices are real, right?

So it occurred to me that I needed to figure something out to help Brath.

What, I couldn't say, but I had a feeling that any answers would be in this world, not any other.

And so, staring up from the foot of that tower, I asked Kelveris if he knew anywhere I could stay the night. I started to tell him why, but…

The Black Dragonflight's situation is precarious. Wrathion isn't cursed, but the rest of the flight is. My world was supposed to be their haven. If people find out that it's not… There was a massive hunt to kill off all the remaining black dragons. I don't want to put a target on Brath's head.

So I didn't tell him why. I just said that I was tired from all the fighting and thought some rest would be…nice for a change.

The look he gave me.

It was like he understood what I'd just said way better than I ever could. He slung an arm over my shoulders and led me into the city, offering that maybe someday, we'd all be able to have a nice long break.

Even though the words were kind, just looking at him I could tell he didn't believe it.


	9. Chapter 9: Standing Still

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who reads, and for your patience. This is a double chapter update, since I missed last week's._

…-…

So if you hear a steady thumping noise, that's just me banging my head against the wall.

I've been in Stormwind two whole days. It's been two days of worrying about Brath and trying to find answers without tipping anyone off that I'm looking for them.

Which is impossible.

Maybe an epic rogue could do it, but I'm not that epic.

See, I've figured that I need to do one of two things. One, I need to ask some more experienced raiders about the old gods. If I do this, word will inevitably get back to someone who knows me that either I don't think they're worth asking for help or that I'm asking about old gods and since the people who know me know about my dragon lover, it won't take much for them to connect the dots. That'll make it open season on Brath.

Option two is going to Wrathion, since he's apparently immune to the old gods. Now, I did learn more about him. I know that he's immune to the old gods, even here in Azeroth, and I'm leaning towards hunting him down so that I can try to find out what he did and replicate the process on Brath. I could tell him that Brath wants to come home, not necessarily that he's hearing voices in my world.

The problem is that dragons are really smart. If I show up asking for a way to cure Brath, I'd wager Wrathion will know that it's not just because his bro wants to come visit him on occasion.

So it's a real conundrum. And I'd love to get someone else on this, but I just…don't know who to trust. I mean Kelveris is awesome, but his number one priority is to protect Azeroth. If I was a threat, he wouldn't hesitate to end me. He might shed a tear afterwards since we are friends, but he'd do what needed to be done.

If he thinks Brath is a threat, he'll take him out.

Unfortunately, not many people are in Stormwind.

Oh, I got a new communication crystal.

And I think I might have somehow joined the Crusaders' Remembrance. Because I have all their members' contact information and they all have mine. And random strangers keep whispering me things like, "Welcome along for the ride," and stuff. That's gonna be hell for my Horde contacts.

Also, I think Kelveris was trying to measure me for a shirt or something earlier.

I am so screwed.

Hendric is down with his partner, but said he might be heading to Stormwind soon. Neesera is heading to the Blasted Lands, but was saying she might be able to come up and see me before she has to go through the portal.

Oh!

So. I finally know what's going on. Kind of. Apparently the Dark Portal was hijacked, so mage portals are the only way to get to Outland at the moment. They might fix the Dark Portal later, I don't know. But instead of Outland, it's connected somewhere else.

Somewhere with orcs.

Who are not friendly.

They're invading and the draenei peace keepers have been called to deal with them at the source, as well as a bunch of war veterans. I guess the Horde and Alliance are sort of working together? But the Horde forces haven't really made it to the Blasted Lands yet.

So, pretty much everyone who could help me on either side are tied up with this mess.

While most of the soldiers and stuff defend, there's a group heading through the portal to scout out the situation.

I think Kelveris wants me to go with them, but I gotta help Brath. Maybe if I can figure out a way to save him, then I can go. Sort of a repayment for what they did for my world, you know?

I mean, I don't want to be one of those friends who only ever takes and never gives back. It's…really complicated.

But I have to help Brath first.

And I've been thinking that Neesera did something with a black dragon egg in some desert place a long time ago. And that she was happy when she found out about Wrathion.

I wonder if she has any answers.

I'm gonna find out, hopefully tonight or tomorrow. Like I said, she's gonna try to come see me, since she can just be summoned back to the front lines if she's really needed. I wonder if being summoned is as creepy for her as it is for me. I'll have to ask.

But anyway, with luck we'll be able to figure something out, because the truth is, Neesera is the only person I think I can trust with this.

Well, her and maybe Mr. Blackheart. I'd loathe having to get in touch with him, though.

For now, I'm going to let Kelveris continue his tour of the city, though. We've already visited the Dwarven District and the Cathedral Square. I think we're going to a place called Old Town tonight. He said Eric will be there, which will be nice. I haven't seen him in a long time.

Hopefully things will work out. I have my fingers crossed.


	10. Chapter 10: Old Acquaintances

_A/N:Thank you for reading! Mr. Blackheart will be back, and quite soon, I might add. Just not this chapter._

…-…

Just so you know, I did send Brath a message via my new crystal. I told him that I'm stuck in Stormwind looking for someone to send me back. He didn't reply right away, but when he did, all he asked was how Senta'ri was doing in Alliance territories, clearly not believing me.

So I told him my woeful tale of being summoned twice, leaving out the bits of how I'm still here because I want to find a way to save him. If those voices are in his head…I don't want them knowing my plans.

If they even would.

Is it paranoid that I don't want my boyfriend's voices to know what I'm up to?

I think it might be. A little, anyway.

That said, I'm also too paranoid to talk much to Neesera about my ideas. Why? Because when Kelveris brought me into Old Town, he pretty much headed straight for this old, rickety bar. And guess who was in said bar?

Nicolas Weaver.

For those who don't know—I sure wish I didn't—Nicolas is a legendary rogue who worked for Wrathion and was granted magickal daggers…which I inadvertently helped destroy. Kind of. Not really.

He blames me for it, though, because why not? If he didn't blame me for that, he might have to come up with a real reason to dislike me.

I've got plenty of reasons to dislike him.

In the course of our adventures, he poisoned me, told me all my friends and family were likely dead, and got me hurt on a number of occasions. He's always had a horrible attitude, and he's a total dick.

I admit, he's had a hard life. His best friend and the love of his life both died during the time that I knew him, but still. He was a jerk before all that, so it's not like the losses made him bitter.

Well, when he saw me, the first words out of his mouth were, "Where's your dragon?"

And of course, his dragon friend was there with him. He looked like a high elf, with glowing eyes and pointy ears and all that. Derrestrasz is his name, though I just call him Derres. He was much friendly than the rogue he carted around.

I just kind of grumbled something about Brath being busy, but he caught on almost instantly that something was amiss.

You know how I always say stuff like, 'a good rogue could do blah, blah' and all? Well, he's sort of my standard. As much as I despise him, Nicolas is really good at being a rogue.

It's miserable, and I'd never admit it to him, but that's the truth. So yeah.

He knows something's up. Worse, he's one of the ones who was originally hunting down the black dragons. Plus, I think he still considers Brath as evil, though I could be wrong. It's hard to tell with him, as he's really, _really_ good at lying.

So I definitely didn't want to talk to him about Brath.

Almost as soon as we'd entered the bar, Kelveris had gotten distracted by something and ditched me with the duo that I wasn't exactly happy to see. Of all my friends and acquaintances, I think these two were about as low on the list as you could get.

But we muddled through some painful small talk somehow. Mostly, it was Derres happily asking me questions while Nicolas watched me like he expected every word out of my mouth to be lies.

When I finally got a message from Neesera saying that she was in Stormwind, I just about sprinted out of that bar. However, I managed to tactfully excuse myself and head out. We met on one of the little bridges across the canals, but even as we hugged and exchanged pleasantries, she glanced past me and waved a little, tilting her head. "Nicolas. It's been a while. It is good to see you."

The jerk had followed me, of course.

I tried to tell him that Neesera and I had some catching up to do, but Neesera blew that one. She blinked and pointed out that we'd seen each other less than a month ago and then Nicolas had jumped in and pointed out that he hadn't seen either of us in years.

Without even meaning to do, I said that that was his fault, as he'd been the one to leave without a word and to never bother to contact anyone.

He dismissed me, saying that Kelveris and Eric had kept him in the know.

Somehow, he ended up invited along for dinner. We went to a nicer place than the bar I'd met him in, but it felt seedy, just having him there. I wasn't the only one who thought that, either. There were a lot of people who eyed our table with these condescending looks.

We all pretended we didn't notice—in Neesera's case, that could have been true. She's caring, but not always the best with details.

I should point out: in my world, rogues aren't necessarily thieves. There's sort of a distinction between the two. While either can be the other, neither are necessarily both, if that makes sense.

In Azeroth, it's pretty much an unspoken truth that all rogues are thieves.

I suppose that Nicolas and I looked our parts. We were both in fighting leathers and hadn't bothered to take off our weapons, sporting them on our hips—among others. Every rogue has at least one hidden blade, if not a dozen. We did take our gloves off to eat. It's never fun to get crumbs between the leather and your skin, and grease stains are just tacky.

Neesera was in her battle gear, too, but since it showed she was a shaman, people probably didn't care so much about her.

But yeah.

That evening was just one awkward situation after another.

Finally, though, Nicolas said he had to go. Part of me was sure that he was just going to follow us or something, to eavesdrop.

I really am getting paranoid.

Once we'd headed back to a room Neesera had rented—I felt bad about that. Like, I should have invited her to stay with me, so that she would have to pay for a room. But, well, Kelveris was paying for that room. Which meant that Nicolas would know where to find me. When we got there, I scoured every inch of the room, searching for places a person could hide or weak spots in the walls or floor where someone might be able to listen through.

When I was satisfied that the room was safe, I plopped down on the foot of the bed. Neesera was already seated there, having spent the last few minutes idly watching me. She never once asked why I was being so thorough. Maybe she picks up on more than she lets on…

Well, I finally broke the rather awkward silence by asking what she knew about old gods.

Instantly, her eyes narrowed. Not at me, per se. It was more the subject.

She explained to me how heroes had fought against C'thun, Yogg-saron, and sort of dealt with one called Y'shaarj. There were more out there, but those were the ones people had come across. She also explained how they had cults and influenced the minds of mortals, urging them to free them from their confines and what have you.

She paused, pointing out that the Black Dragonflight had been the most notoriously afflicted with their whispers, aside from some cult. It was the Old Gods who had driven the earth warder mad.

I'd sort of known that already—not the Brath ever talked about it. I'd always thought that, despite his callous demeanor, he'd still been sad that his dad had been killed. Now, I wonder if it was just the Old Gods covering their tracks. That seems like something dastardly that they would do.

Then, when the conversation was winding down, I asked the big question. "You freed Wrathion from the Old Gods' influence, right? How?"

Well. That was another long explanation, involving red dragons, a gnomish scientist, and some old Titan technology.

"Could it be done again?"

"If we gathered some more eggs, probably," Neesera shrugged. "But we don't need to, with that flight breeding in your world."

I gulped. "They can still reach them." I frowned. "The Old Gods. They can still reach Brath and the others."

Neesera's eyes widened. Then, even as she took it in, she gasped. "That is why you wanted to Nicolas to leave."

"Among other reasons," I muttered.

With a sigh, Neesera wound one of her curls around a long, thin finger. "This is not good. We are preparing to go to yet another world, when this world is still threatened." She ran let her hand fall to her lap. "The crises truly never end." She laughed faintly. "At least when we were fleeing the Legion, that was all there was. Now, though…" She sighed and shrugged. "Perhaps this is atonement for letting so many other worlds fall."

"Maybe the light was just leading you to where you'd be needed?" I offered. I wasn't huge on religion, but I knew Neesera was.

Smiling faintly, she shrugged again. "I do not know. We shall see, I suppose."

"But…is there a way we could free the dragons? A way we could free Brath?"

"To free them from the Old Gods' corruption…Wrathion is the only one I know who was ever successfully freed. And that was before he was born. The Old Gods' have had centuries to whisper to the others." She drummed her fingers against her knee, sitting cross-legged. "Most who are taken either go insane or are killed…I do not know of any cultists who came away from that experience intact."

My shoulders slumped, and I swear I could see my future slipping away from me. Sure, me and Brath would never have kids, but…I hadn't cared. So long as we could be together, that had been enough.

I wondered if I could plead with the Old Gods somehow. Maybe I could ask them to let him go. I could promise not to stand against them, if they'd just let him be free.

But then, what kind of person would that make me?

I doubted Brath would care if I made that sort of unscrupulous decision, but I don't think I could. My brother…I don't like to talk about him, but well, he used to play Dungeons and Dragons, right? Well, one time I had a crush on one of his friends, and I got my dad to make him include me in a campaign. I hated it so much. And Greg, my brother, found a way to kill my character off pretty early, but that's not the point. The reason I thought of that was because they had this chart for alignment. I think I would be…I don't know. Something on the good end of the spectrum. I just can't make those evil decisions and live with myself.

But then, if it came down to either Brath or my conscience, I had to wonder which I would actually pick. I mean, my morals have slipped a little since getting to know him. He always cheers me on a little if he catches me lying to someone or doing something to ruin someone else's day…

I wonder if that's just because of the corruption in his mind.

How much of the Brath I know is really him, and how much is just the Old Gods' influence?

Is there even really a distinction anymore?


	11. Chapter 11: Always Something in the Way

_A/N: I'm working a lot more at the moment (yay!), so that means my chapters may be a bit on the short side for a while, what with the cut into my writing time. This chapter is a few days late, but next week's should be posted on time! It's already written; I just have to type it up. And the story should pick up in the next chapter or so, just have to set everything up now._

_Anyway, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!_

…-…

Alright, well. Here is where things get a little…difficult.

Neesera and I split up to look for this gnome, right? Dr. Hieronymus Blam. It would seem that with a name like that, he'd be pretty easy to find. Yet somehow, he was nowhere.

Really, worse than that, once you found someone who knew him, he could be anywhere.

Searing Gorge, Ashenvale, Badlands, Sili-something. The list went on and on. Everyone said that they thought he was researching something new somewhere new.

He was a bit of a mad scientist, it seemed.

And kind of well known, in the right circles. Though, I suppose everyone is, when you put it that way, huh?

Anyway, Neesera finally caught me as I was wandering the docks, excited. She'd gotten word that the good doctor was between experiments and research ventures, and had headed home to Ironforge for a while.

It was great news.

There was a tram that could take us there, but Neesera decided it would be better to find a mage instead. After all, we didn't know how long the doctor would be in town. The tram took about a week, and we didn't want to miss him.

We were looking for a mage, and that meant heading over to the Mage district again. I gotta say, it is nice having everything labeled so neatly. It makes it easy to get around. I was also trying to avoid Kelveris and his guild—which was hard because I didn't know what they all looked like—and I'm pretty sure Neesera thought I might be spiraling down into insanity.

Well, those blessed arches leading into that purple roofed area were yawning up to devour us when I heard my name being called.

I tried to ignore it, but in no time, there was a familiar Chihuahua nipping dutifully at the toes of my boots. I stopped and stared down at Tinkerbelle, who wagged her little tale up at me.

Even as I started to turn around, resigning to my fate, a hand thudded on my shoulder.

Elizabeth.

Neesera shot me a look that implied she didn't think I needed to forgo all pleasantries just because we had a dragon to save and then nodded to our friendly hunter.

"Amy! Imagine running into you here!" Elizabeth cried out, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I'd been trying to get away from her.

"Hey," I replied, trying to summon up some enthusiasm of my own. I mean, I was happy to see her, but I had more important things to do, you know? "I thought you were in Australia or something for a while."

"Oh, yeah. I was," Elizabeth's enthusiasm vanished. "They didn't give a fuck what I had to say, so I figured I could do more by coming here." At that, she inspected our surroundings with obvious distaste. "Undercity is cooler, but apparently I can't _go_ there." She crossed her arms, pouting.

"Oh?"

"Doesn't matter that we're neutral," she muttered, walking with me as I began to edge my way forward. Neesera kept pace on her other side. "Humans are humans here, apparently."

"That's too bad. I know when I got ported to Orgrimmar, they threw me in a dungeon."

"You got to see Org?!" Elizabeth looked awed and then disappointed and then jealous and then hopeful. "Was it awesome? Do they have the spikes everywhere still? Did you see the Valley of Honor? What about Strength?"

"I was ported into a really dark place with a bunch of fel abusing warlocks," I replied, trying not to sound as annoyed as the memories made me. "And before I could get over the nausea of being summoned, I was having my arms wrenched behind me and shackled."

"Oh," Elizabeth said, clearly disappointed. "That sucks."

"No kidding."

"This is so dumb," Elizabeth continued, clearly not picking up on the vibes I was sending out that I was in a hurry. "It doesn't matter that we're neutral anymore. Here, humans are humans, regardless of world or magick resistance."

"It's too bad," I murmured, not really listening.

"It sucks!" Elizabeth cried. She stuck her tongue out at a passing guard, who merely rolled his eyes and kept on his patrol route. "I guess it's too hard for them to tell the difference between Alliance and neutral humans…lazy bastards. I wanted to meet the Banshee Queen…"

"Elizabeth," I finally interjected. "I don't mean to blow you off, but we're trying to get to Ironforge and—"

As if everything was conspiring against me, an explosion sounded off in the distance. We all instinctively ducked, as though it had been closer than it was. From the looks of the smoke, it had happened all the way in Old Town.

Before we'd even straightened up, shouts were coming from all around us.

Shop keepers ushered civilians inside and slammed their doors. Heroes rode through the streets and flew overhead, heading toward the curling smoke.

Another explosion went off from somewhere beyond the Cathedral Square—I couldn't remember the full layout of the city. Even as I watched some of the flying mounts swerve toward the new attack place, and some fly back toward the other districts, their riders peering down to try to see if anything was ready to attack again, another one went off in the Mage District.

Of course.

That sounds so terribly self-centered, but…

Bleh.

Neesera swore quietly under her breath as she readied her totems, and Tinkerbelle ducked closer to Elizabeth's shoes, growling. I drew my daggers and Elizabeth her bow.

It was hard to tell where to go. There was Chaos in the air, though most of the flyers had gone to the districts yet to be hit, hoping to stop whatever terrorist acts these were. They left the guards to fight their way through crowds of panicking citizens fleeing from the devastation.

I swung my daggers so that they rested against the leather of my gloves, not wanting to skewer any clumsy civilian running past me, as we made our way deeper into the district. At least for a little bit, I forgot about Brath and his returning insanity, instead focused on keeping pace with Neesera and Elizabeth and warning people to get back inside.

Another explosion sounded in the distance, but we were too far in the winding paths, with the purple thatched roofs blocking out most of the sky to see where had been hit. It had sounded like it was on the other side of town, though.

Neesera was telling people to stay indoors. After all, it didn't make sense for them to get trampled or hit by falling debris if another explosion went off nearby.

The wings from the mounts overhead were beating the smoke back down on us and making breathing in general horrible. On the plus side, it seemed to encourage people to get inside, and in no time we were the only ones wandering the streets, our eyes tearing up and all.

I could barely hear anything through the smoke—no calls, no cries, no flames crackling. It reminded me, in a way, of my home town, when it'd gone under military law. The streets had been so quiet and empty, as if people were just waiting for all the scary stuff to go away.

That alone made me want to end this. I wouldn't let the Legion take another world.

Assuming this was the Legion at all.

My mind raced through the stories I'd heard of other enemies. Surely the Horde wouldn't attack the Alliance now, after everything that happened with Mr. Hellscream….

Then I thought of the new orcs attacking. Supposedly there was a front there already to block them from getting this far north, though.

Even as I wondered what we might be up against, we reached the area where the central tower had been. In its place was a smoking mound of brick and stone. Bodies were scattered about and the whole area was still eerily silent. I could make out the soft whispers of flames now, but even they seemed muted, somehow. It was like we'd entered into some pocket where time and sound couldn't get in.

The three of us, along with a few guards who had managed their way through the smoke to the site, fanned out, picking our way carefully through the ruins. I felt like I'd throw up. Most of the victims here looked like they hadn't died from the explosion or even falling.

Most of the ones I was coming across…their necks had been…snapped was too delicate a word.

They'd been crushed.

Even as I steeled myself—the demons could be this brutal on occasion, so I'd learned to take in more gore than I used to be able to—I saw the flash of a spell reflecting through the smoke and then heard a deep, guttural rumbling.

I darted toward it, only to drop low to the ground as some of the smoke swirled out of the way to give me a fleeting, clear view.

There, just a few yards from me, was an orc. His skin wasn't like the ones I had seen before. Instead of green, he was brown…and bigger.

Even as he lumbered toward his next victim, the gangly mage saw me. The orc paused, beginning to turn his head in my direction just as the wind separated us with another curtain of smoke.

I took advantage of it, carefully moving to the side, not wanting to be in the same place when the creature got another good look.

Even as I tried to circle around, though, there was a sudden rattling of loose stone that seemed to come from all around me.

And then, the figure of that orc burst through the smoke, right in front of me.


	12. Chapter 12: Direction

_A/N: Alright, so. This story isn't going to follow too closely with WoD, but this chapter will be explaining at least what I think is the whole deal with how WoD happens and it's connection to Garrosh. I'm pretty sure at this point everyone knows, but if you don't, then there could be minor spoilers in this chapter. This should be the only chapter that really refers to it, so next week there shouldn't be any spoilers._

_Just wanted to give you a heads up._

_Thank you for reading!_

…-…

Well, I'm alive.

When that orc came after me, I tried to dodge, but he caught me by my leg, spun, and sent me flying into some rubble. In retrospect, I'm glad Nicolas wasn't there. He would have made an embarrassing event into a nightmare.

Luckily, that mage shouted the alarm and soon Neesera was there, healing us both. Elizabeth helped to get him out from under the debris that had landed on him. She is surprisingly strong for her frame.

I don't want to go into every sordid detail, but we killed the orc. It took a lot, too. Arrow in the back? Kept going. Dagger in the chest? Kept going. Frost bolt shattering his arm? He was ambidextrous, it turns out.

Like I said, that fight dragged on forever. But we got him. And of course after it was all over, then reinforcements arrived. Well, that's not their fault. Apparently there'd been half a dozen of those orcs at each site? They're calling him and the other orcs who attacked sappers.

As in rogues.

I've never seen a rogue do that before.

It makes me wonder about what those new orc warriors are like. Terrifying, no doubt.

But here's the thing: these orcs—well, the ones leading them anyway—are apparently replicas of the ones that attacked some thirty years ago.

So we finally know exactly what Mr. Hellscream did.

And that requires taking a look at the dragons.

Apparently each flight governs something different. I won't go into all of them, but the bronze dragons cover time. As in, all time. Everything that has been, that is, that will be.

And also, everything that could have been, could be, and could happen.

In other words, they govern multiple versions of reality.

As a result, they apparently get confused about which time and reality they're in, but that's a topic for another day.

The point is that there _are_ multiple realities.

I'll let that sink in for a moment.

There's difference versions of every world, which means there's different versions of people. There could be an Amy Ford out there who still has her family, who's in college at this point.

In a way, it's comforting. At the same time, I'm jealous of that Amy that may or may not even exist. But then, I guess that Amy could have been hit by a bus or something. Meh.

Back on topic.

Mr. Hellscream escaped into a different timeline. And now the orcs of that time are attacking our Azeroth, instead of their Azeroth. And who knows what that means for Alternate Earth.

But yeah.

So these orcs are invading our timeline, no doubt at Mr. Hellscream's persuasion.

It makes me wonder why someone can't just go back in time and prevent Mr. Hellscream from going to the other timeline, but I suppose I'm not capable of understanding all the intricacies of time travel.

Still seems like an easy fix now that we know the cause, but whatever.

Neesera has decided that she must go to the new Draenor. She apologized to me over and over, not wanting me to feel abandoned or anything. But in the end, she couldn't live with the guild if something terrible happened.

She headed back to the Dark Portal this morning, along with most of Kelveris' guild.

Elizabeth is leaving in the morning, too.

I want to, but…I have to save Brath.

Now I just have to find a mage to take me to Ironforge, and hope that I get there before the doctor leaves.


End file.
